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Fire.

For a long while, that was all she was. A little bundle of neurons on fire, screaming in the dark. It was the same white-hot agony she'd felt the first few times she'd sat for her chipping, when she hadn't had the credit for the drugs they gave her now. And the same one she'd felt every time she'd caught a bullet, or gotten stuck, or had her neuros fried by a 'runner on the other end of her gun. All she was was that fire - and the cold edge of ice running through her veins as whatever they were pumping into tried to keep the pain down.

Key word there?

'Tried.'

Finally, after way too fuckin' long, the fure began to creep back and die out, at least mostly… Replaced by the icy creep of drugs, the steady feed of implant-feedback, and an odd… Dull echo to it all that she really couldn't place.

Finally, though, she blinked her eyes open, wincing at the bright fluorescent overhead as status readouts swam across her vision. As the status-scroll died, she started to notice things - like how damn clean it all was. The lights didn't flicker, and the tiles of the roof were sterile-clean, new and uniform. So, not a street Ripper, then. But her investigation ended there - she couldn't move, her body too numb to answer and her implants ignoring her entirely.

Which was just… Fucking nova, wasn't it?

She could turn her head, though, even if it hurt. But as she did a gloved hand snapped around, grabbed her by the jaw and held her still. "Patient is advised to hold still and refrain from any movement."

"What-" She coughed, voice raw, rough and dry. "W-Where the-"

"Patient is advised to remain silent." the woman said as her hand withdrew. When Rebecca tried to turn her head, though, the hand came back and she snapped, "And patient is advised to hold still."

"F-F-Fuck off, bitch!" She rasped, "The f-fuck am I-"

"Patient uncooperative, please advise." The doctor sighed finally, then sighed again, longer and harder. Suddenly, the hand on Rebecca's chin vanished and she was lowered. Before she could turn to look for her, the doctor leaned over her from above her, dressed head to toe in a sealed, fitted clean suit. "You, Patient, are at a contractually undisclosed, highly specialized, Trauma-Team Affiliate Rehabilitation Center. You are currently undergoing nanite-based reparative neuro-surgery and reconstruction, which requires you to be conscious. And still. Trauma Team and Associated are not responsible for your injury if you refuse to follow instructions."

"T-Trauma-" She blinked, suddenly aware that only one of her eyes could actually do that, now. "I don't have f-fuckin' Trauma coverage. And what the fuck happened to-"

"The policy doesn't exist under your name."

"W-What?"

"It was purchased in the interest of other-care, in absentia of yourself. In other words, for you, rather than by you." Cocking her head as, Rebecca assumed, she checked her files. "We have several files related to yours as part of a Premium Group-Care coverage package meant for Lucyna Kushinada as well as you, one Falco and one Kiwi. The latter's formal names are unknown - but chip-data and stills were provided to serve purpose."

"P-Premium…" She murmured, "D-Did anyone else-"

"Patient is advised to avoid stressors. Stressors can result in-"

"I-I will fuckin' kill you-"

"Trauma was alerted to Patient-Kiwi's status when local emergency services ID'd her. It was too late, however., to save her." Rebecca couldn't really care less, and somehow, the doctor seemed to guess as much. Or she also didn't really care, for that matter. "Your account has been credited for this failure. However, there is a credit penalty since she, like all of you, lacked a Biomon."

"W-Whatever…"

"Policy Holder alerted us to your injury, however." She went on, "Once we received the alert, an AV was-"

"Holder?"

"One D. Martinez." She answered simply, "His Biomon tripped while AV-6878 was en route, and AV-9813 moved to rendezvous. However, the team was unable to retrieve him due to Adam Smasher's interference. As such, cost of expended ammunition, lost material and lost personnel, has been deducted from your linked account, sans forty percent."

"D-David's… Dead?"

"Yes." The doctor answered and then, more quietly, added a distant sounding. "I'm… Sorry for your loss."

Her eye burned, and her throat tightened, and all she could do was scoff and close her eyes. So she didn't have to look at the woman, so she could just… Try and will herself back to sleep. When that didn't work, though, she could only sigh.

"F-Fuckin' David…" She murmured, "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why'd he do this shit?" She grunted, "Didn't even fuck 'im, and he… He got me… Fuck me, Trauma?"

"Neurological treatments are complete." The doctor said, suddenly withdrawing. "Anaesthetising again. Patient is advised to relax."

She didn't even have the fire left in her to argue, or spit, or turn now the Doctor wasn't holding her head still. She just felt… Empty. Empty, cold, and so, so alone, all of the sudden. So tired. Pilar, then Maine and Dorio, now fuckin' David, too?

It wasn't right….

She was happy when the drugs hit her and dragged her under.

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Just a trial idea.

Thoughts?